


Shut Up and Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is...

by AlannasTara



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Implied Non-Consensual Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, alcohol use, drunk in vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4468892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannasTara/pseuds/AlannasTara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How'd you know my name?" His eyes narrowed as he studied her, finally coming to rest on the ring in her hand, memories sparking, "And how the hell did you get my ring?"</p><p>That's what you get for waking up in Vegas.</p><p>Daryl and Carol wake up with no memory of who they are or where they are. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Nine Lives AU Prompt-a-thon Challenge:  
> Prompt - "Both woke up in the middle of nowhere together with no memory of who they are or why they’re there. From ID cards/licenses, they figure out their names but that’s it. They have to work together to remember what happened and get back to civilization."
> 
> *Title from the Katy Perry song, "Waking Up in Vegas."

**Disclaimer: I do not own TWD, the tv show, or the characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

Her throat felt like sandpaper. Dry, dusty, _parched._ Her eyes were crusted shut and trying to open them felt like bench-pressing twice her weight. Her hand fluttered jerkily to her face, and she shielded her eyes against the fiery light trying to pierce her eyelids, as she managed to blink her eyes open and stare blearily in front of her. She could just make out the fuzzy edges of everything. Brown bleeding into tan, blurring into beige. Nothing was defined. Her head felt like it was wrapped in bubble wrap, cotton in her ears. Just the thumping of her blood pounding in her skull, and the stinging pain shooting through the side of her neck where she was cramped up against... _a car door?_

A gravelly cough breached the haze surrounding her and she gingerly turned her head toward the direction of the sound. A darkened, blurry shape slowly came into focus in front of her as she blinked her eyes, and rubbed the grainy substance from the corners, fingers coming away blackened from...what she was assuming was makeup?

"Urrrrghhh...," the moaning from the blurry shape bludgeoned into her eardrums and she groaned to herself.

"Agggggghhhhh," she shifted her legs so she was stretching her limbs and she felt the blood rush into her extremities, bringing with it the sharp pins and needles feeling she hated.

She fumbled for the door handle, trying to leverage herself up in the seat so she could see where she was, when the noise from the seat beside her caught her attention again. She pressed her hand to her forehead, covering her eyes to block out the glare, trying to lessen the pain of the sun's reflection ricocheting off every gleaming metal surface.

" _What the fuuuuuck?_ " The shape grumbled in a heavy voice, like gravel and dirt cascading down the side of a mountain.

She felt movement on the seat next to her and finally the shape took the form of man, stretching out from his hunched over position.

"Shhhhh!," she whispered harshly in as forceful a voice as her head would allow. "Not so loud."

She saw him startle just out the side of her vision, cry out with the movement, and then gingerly recline his head on the back of the car seat.

"Who are you?" His voice rumbled softly through the hot, arid space between them as his foot shot out and kicked something, a paper rustling noise crackling up from the floorboard.

Her brain scrambled, like a mouse chasing a piece of cheese in a maze, trying to form sentences, words. _Hell, even a coherent thought would be nice right about now,_ she thought to herself.

"I...I'm...," she couldn't place her finger on it, but something was off. Like a big, fuzzy block of static clouding all of her memories. Frustrated, she closed her eyes, putting every last bit of energy she had in recalling something as simple as her name. Her forehead wrinkled, deep in thought, and squinting from the headache behind her eyes, she finally huffed.

"I don't know." She rested her head back against headrest, the mental output exhausting her. "Who are you?"

The car was silent for moments, not a whisper of a sound before, "Not quite sure at th' moment," he ground out in a tight voice.

"Great," she responded, sarcasm seeping through her voice.

She raised her head up once more and cracked her eyes open, this time able to take in more than a blink of her surroundings. She was in the back seat of a car, an older model she guessed, since there were no seat belts in the back seat, and the interior was dated. She looked out of the window and saw desert stretching for miles and miles against the backdrop of a city lit bright enough to see even in the middle of the day.

"Where are we?" She wondered out loud, as she looked over the sandy expanse before her.

"Shit, you think I know where we are when I can't even remember my own damn name?"

She flinched, not having expected an answer to the question. His terse answer rubbed her the wrong way, given that her head was pounding, she was in a car with a stranger, she didn't know where she was, and she didn't know _who_ she was at the moment.

"I wasn't expecting you to know anything," she replied icily.

She reached out and opened her door, allowing the dusty breeze to whip through the car, stirring up the hot air but not really cooling anything down. It was that air on her legs that made her look down and notice her attire.

Or lack thereof.

She was clothed. If you could call it that.

The scarlet dress barely reached her thighs and was garishly covered with red sequins and glitter, which had rubbed off of the material and onto her skin. The spaghetti straps holding the dress on her petite frame were actually drooping off her shoulders, and she realized she wasn't wearing a bra. Her legs were bare and so were her feet, although a pair of red heels, matching her dress and covered in glitter or crystals or something, were in the floorboard next her, partially buried by a shopping bag of some sort.

She felt naked...she didn't like so much of her skin being uncovered. She felt exposed... _vulnerable._

She moved her hand to tug at her skirt, trying to adjust the material to cover her legs more, when she noticed a large ring on her left ring finger. _A man's ring._

She turned her hand over and inspected what looked like dental floss wrapped around the band to hold it in place on her finger. It was a class ring. The kind you get in high school. She didn't remember it, but that didn't surprise her since she couldn't remember anything at the moment. It was silver...or platinum...titanium? She wasn't sure of the metal but it had a bow and arrow engraved on one side with "ARCHERY," scripted above it, and what she assumed was a school mascot on the other side. In the center was a deep, blue sapphire surrounded by the lettering "GEORGIA-WALKER COUNTY HIGH SCHOOL."

She went to work pulling it off of her finger, not paying any attention to the man next to her. She flipped it around and sure enough, on the inside of the band was the name _Daryl M. Dixon._

" _Daryl_ …," She murmured quietly, wondering at the name and ring and how it managed to appear on her ring finger.

"Yeah?" Came the response, before his head snapped to look at her. " _That's my name,"_ he exclaimed. Realization brightened his eyes but then suspicion quickly clouded them. "How'd you know my name?" His eyes narrowed as he studied her, finally coming to rest on the ring in her hand, memories sparking, " _And how the hell did you get my ring?_ "

"I don't know," she answered harshly. "You think _I_ know anything, given I don't know _my name_!" Bitterness heavy in her voice as she threw his words back at him.

He held out his hand for the ring and she tossed it to him. Then she looked around for a purse, a wallet, something that had some form of identification or location on it, noticing the keys were in the ignition. Her foot kicked the shopping bag in the process, as she tried to get out of the car to search the front seat. A white piece of paper fluttered out onto the floor, and he leaned down to pick it up. It was a receipt to a high end clothing boutique, showing the purchases of a suit, dress, and _holy shit!_

" _Who in the hell spends four grand on a pair of shoes!_ " Daryl yelled, causing his head to start pounding again.

She startled at his yell, hitting her head against the dashboard, and popped up from the front seat of the car.

"What?" She leaned into the back seat and took the receipt, glancing over the information."Well, first of all, they're _Louboutin's_ ," she said, as if that should tell him something.

"Yeah, so?"

"Second, more importantly, this has the address of the store. Do you have a wallet on you?"

He patted his pants pockets and checked the jacket next to him in the seat, coming up empty.

" _Fuck!_ No I don't. Shit, why don't I have my wallet?" He looked accusingly at her and she glared right back at him.

" _I. Don't. Know._ " She was tired of his attitude. "But I don't have a purse either, or a phone, so this receipt is our best chance to figure out what the hell happened and where our belongings are. There's an address to the store. We had to have a wallet or something to pay for all this stuff," she gestured to her dress and shoes. "We should go and see if we left them there."

He groaned and opened the door to get out and move to the driver's seat, his limbs and joints popping and cracking as he stretched.

"'M gettin too old for this shit," he mumbled, and she snorted.

"Just how old are you?"

"Old enough to know better," he smarted off, and then settled behind the steering wheel. "Could use a damn cigarette."

"Ugh, that's disgusting." She wrinkled her nose, staring out the window as he started the car.

"Where to, Miss Daisy?" He popped off, and she glared at him.

"Head towards that city over there, and _don't_ call me that," she looked back down at the receipt, memorizing the address of the store.

"Sounds fittin' if I'm gonna be driving your ass around all day," he chuckled before asking, "So, what city is that?"

She actually growled at him, which made him laugh even more.

"It's Vegas."

* * *

"How much further? I'm dying of thirst." Carol bit out as they traveled down the dusty highway, hot air swirling in the windows, and around their bodies, covering her skin in a thin, grainy layer of sand and dirt.

"I don't have a clue. Have to stop up here at this gas station and ask for directions. Hand me that receipt."

"Wow, a man willing to stop and ask for directions? Has the world ended? Is this the apocalypse?"

"Lady, you got a real attitude. I don't know what your problem is."

"My problem? Well, let's see. I'm hungover, hot, thirsty, and, oh yeah, there's the tiny matter of not knowing who I am, and how I ended up here with a complete stranger and no purse, no phone, and no money!" She exclaimed, her hands gesturing wildly in the air.

"Calm down, alright. Check the console and the glove compartment, see if there's any change or somethin' in there." He spoke in a much calmer, somewhat soothing tone, not wanting to deal with a hysterical woman, in addition to the rest of their problems.

She started digging around the car, going through compartments and digging in the seats and under them, managing to come up with three dollars and fifty-seven cents. He pulled out a couple of singles he had wadded up in his pocket and handed them to her as he swung the car into the gas station, tires crunching over gravel and broken asphalt.

"Go getcha something to eat and drink, while I find out how to get back to civilization."

He got out of the car and entered the store, the bell ringing over the door as he made his way to the counter. She entered right behind him, heading straight to the coolers in the back, surprised she didn't break her ankles in the heels she had on, though she did wobble a few times, her dizziness getting the better of her.

She picked out a bottle of water, then glanced down at the money in her hand before looking back at Daryl. Sighing at the prickle of conscience, she placed it back in the cooler and grabbed a much larger bottle. She walked down the aisle not feeling up to eating much, but knowing she needed something to settle her stomach, she grabbed a small bag of pretzels and finally a small two-dose package of Tylenol. She paid quickly for her items using the majority of the money and met Daryl back at the car.

Settling in as he started the car, she ripped open the packet of pain reliever and downed it with a gulp of the fresh, cold water. She opened the bag of pretzels and started munching on one while taking the other packet and handing it over to Daryl along with the water.

"Wasn't much money so I figured we could share," she offered quietly when he looked down at her hand and then back up to examine her face. She avoided meeting his eyes but held her hand out until he grasped the items from her.

"You didn't have to do that, but thanks," he said sincerely, a note of surprise in his voice.

She nodded but didn't say anything else while he followed the directions scribbled on the back of the receipt, tires eating up the highway once more, bringing them ever closer to some answers...hopefully.

* * *

"I am so sorry, Mr. Dixon, but we have no wallet or purse belonging to you or Mrs. Dixon." The polished gentleman in the suit and tie looked distressed, wringing his hands as he delivered the upsetting news. "Last night when you-,"

"Wait, what? Mrs. Dixon?"

"Oh yes, I'm sorry, you wanted me to call you Carol. My apologies." The man nodded his head slightly at Carol but turned his attention swiftly back to the rugged man in front of him.

Daryl looked over at her, watching her reaction at the discovery that her name was Carol. The name struck a chord within her, reverberating and clearing some of the cobwebs from her memories. She was Carol. Carol Di-. No, that wasn't right. It was…well it was _not_ Dixon. She was sure.

"No, you said Carol Dixon. That's not my name." She stared questioningly at the gentleman who wore a fancy gold plated name plaque that stated " _Mr. Horvath._ "

"Ah yes, but you were married last night, no?" He glanced between the two of them quizzically. "I mean, that is what you told me last night. It is why you purchased the fine attire you are wearing. You were going to be married at a nice little chapel, and wanted to look your best. Is that...did something happen? Did you not make it to the wedding?"

Carol felt her stomach drop and the floor felt as if it was bucking beneath her. _Married?_ She stumbled back a bit and Daryl's arm went quickly behind her to steady her, helping her over to a chaise lounge to sit down.

" _Married?!"_ Carol squeaked, her eyes focused on Daryl, willing him with her mind to tell her this was some huge prank. A joke. She looked about the shop for hidden camera crews waiting to pop out and yell 'Surprise!'

"I'm terribly sorry if this is distressing news, madam. I was only relaying that which I thought was known. If your…," he cast a side glance at Daryl, " _judgement_ was compromised, that may explain why you do not remember." Daryl bristled at the insinuation, but kept his cool.

"Look man, neither one of us remember much about last night for whatever reason. We don't have any of our stuff either. We're just trying to backtrace our steps to figure what happened and what's going on, and where our phones and wallets are. If you have any information that'd be real helpful. If not, we need to get goin.'" Daryl kept his arm around Carol's waist, supporting her as she seemed to be in a semi state of shock, and waited expectantly for the man to decide whether or not he was going to help them.

"Mr. Dixon, unfortunately there isn't much I can do in this situation. I was the one to help with your purchases last evening, and you paid in cash. There are no credit card receipts or information to help in that manner. As I have already informed you, we do not have your belongings."

"Cash?" Daryl's eyes bugged out, remembering the four thousand dollars spent on shoes.

"Yessir."

" _I spent four thousand dollars on a pair of high heels?_ " Daryl was incredulous. There was no way.

"You were actually the one who picked them out, sir. Quite insistent that the lady have the shoes, sir. Very adamant. You paid for the shoes, her dress, as well as your own suit. Spared no expense."

Daryl just sat there, stunned. Four thousand dollars on shoes. He paid four grand for shoes. In cash. Where did he get over four grand in cash to pay for this stuff? While he was stuck trying to think why in the world he'd want to pick out high heels for the woman next to him, Carol was slowly coming back around to reality and trying to plot their next step forward.

"You said we were planning to go to a chapel. Did we happen to say which one? Do you remember a name?" The soft timbre of Carol's voice sweeping into the silence between the three of them registered in Daryl's brain, and he tore his attention from the money to what she was saying.

"Actually, yes, I do recall you mentioning The Little White Wedding Chapel. You were in such a hurry to get there…," Dale trailed off wistfully.


	2. That's What You Get for Waking Up in Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for Alcohol use, drug use, and non-consensual drug use (implied)
> 
> See end notes.

…

_“Hurry,” Carol giggled as she pulled the dress up over her body, flinging her bra in the bag with the rest of her clothes._

_“I’m hurrying. Hey. What size shoe are you?” Daryl asked her from outside of the dressing room where she was changing._

_“I’m a seven and a half, why?”_

_“Just humor me, I’ll be right back.”_

_Daryl took off to find the elderly gentlemen who had helped him find a fitting suit and the dress Carol was putting on. Damn! She was hot! Like, “on fire” hot. And he would know. The guys back at the station would give him such a hard way to go about this, but he had the money, so why not?_

_“Dale, you see those heels over there?”_

_“Yessir,” Dale replied._

_"I need a pair of those in a seven and a half."_

_"Certainly, sir, I will see what we have available. I feel I should let you know those shoes are $3,945.00."_

_"I don't care, bring me what ya got."_

_Daryl waited, bouncing his on the balls of feet, a light feeling inside his chest. He felt happy, hopeful. This weird electric feeling like nothing could bring him down. He was flying._

_Dale returned with the heels and they made their way to Carol to try them on._

_"Daryl! I can't take these! They're Louboutins! Do you know how much they cost?"_

_"Don't worry 'bout it. I got the cash. I want you to have them," he leaned closer, whispering where only she could hear him. "They look like they're on fire, only thing hotter is you wearing 'em."_

_She blushed and nodded, slipping the heels on and noting the perfect fit._

_"They're beautiful."_

_"Not as beautiful as you," Daryl tipped her chin and kissed her lightly on the lips._

_"Dale, if you'd kindly help us get everything together, we're in a bit of a hurry. Got a wedding to get to," Daryl squeezed Carol's hand._

_"Of course, sir. Are congratulations in order?"_

  


_"Not yet, but once we get done at The Little White Wedding Chapel there'll be lots of congratulatin' goin' on."_

_..._

 

* * *

 

Carol sat quietly in the passenger seat on their way to The Little White Wedding Chapel. Surely they hadn't gotten married! She turned to observe Daryl out of the corner of her eye.

He seemed rough around the edges, but she didn't feel in any danger from him. He was actually pretty easy on the eyes. Clear blue eyes, sandy colored hair, impressively muscular and fit. She felt a fluttery feeling in her chest and gazed back out at the busy city sights.

 

The morning had been rough and he'd been surly, but really, so had she. Anybody probably would have in that situation. She just couldn't see why she would have married him last night. That didn't seem like something she would do. Then she remembered the class ring on her finger that morning and groaned, tossing her head against the back of the seat.

 

Daryl cleared his throat.

 

"I'm sure there's some kind of explanation. Maybe it was a joke or somethin' or a bet, ya know? We probably didn't even get married.

So you don't need to get all worried."

 

She couldn't help but notice the note of defense and something that sounded a lot like hurt underlining his response.

 

"Yeah, but remember your ring was on my finger this morning. My ring finger."

 

"Shit! I forgot about that. But I'm sure they have ways to take care of that. I doubt we're the first people to get drunk and married in Vegas."

 

She hummed in agreement and her mind worked overtime, trying to regain some memories from the night before.

 

"Does that seem strange to you though?" Carol asked.

 

"What?"

 

"Well, that we don't have any memory of last night. I've been really, really drunk before, but never so drunk that I've forgotten who I am, and lost huge blocks of time from my memory. Not just from drinking." She explained.

 

"You got a point. I ain't never blacked out so bad from drinking. And I got a pretty high tolerance." Daryl thought back over what they knew so far; it was like trying to put together the puzzle without the the edge pieces or the cover of the box.

 

"You think maybe we...took something else," Carol questioned him, haltingly. She didn't want to believe she would do that. She hadn't done anything that foolish in over a decade.

 

"I don't know. That's not my kinda thing, really, but this is Vegas, and marryin' isn't really my thing either, so...," he trailed off as they pulled into the parking lot of the chapel.

 

They stared up in awe at the expansive white building, their breath muted, nervous energy expanding all around them.

 

“Let’s go see,” Daryl climbed somewhat wearily out of the vehicle, before Carol knew what he was doing he had opened her door and was giving her his hand to help her out of the vehicle. At her puzzled look he replied, “I’d be a piss poor husband if I didn’t help my wife, now wouldn’t I?” He joked with her, trying to break the tension and relax his own damn nerves.

 

They walked to the front door, entering the gaudy anteroom of the chapel, decorated with plush scarlet furnishings, and trimmed in gold paint. The rush of heavily rose-scented air conditioning from the building breezed over them and cooled the sweat on their heated skin. Goosebumps broke out over Carol’s arms and legs and she shivered.

 

Daryl leaned over and whispered, “Hang on a sec, be right back,” and darted out the door.

 

She huffed at the nerve of the man to just leave her standing there in the middle of the entryway, waiting to speak to the attendee. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to rid herself of the goosebumps, when she heard the door behind her open again and then Daryl was standing next to her.

 

“Here,” he said, and handed her his suit jacket he had left in the back seat of the car when they left the boutique. She stared at the jacket for a few moments before looking back up and meeting his eyes, and she was taken aback at the warmth she saw waiting there. There was more to this man than anyone could see from outward appearances, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by him, and the desire to get to know him better.

 

She shrugged the jacket on over her dress and wrapped it around her, the arms dangling past her wrists and the bottom reaching the hem of her dress. It smelled of him, and she inhaled the fragrance, deep and woodsy with a hint of fire and smoke. It caused a frisson of desire to bolt through her, striking deep in her core, and she gasped at the intensity of her sudden arousal.

 

They stepped forward to the attendee, their turn to speak to him, but before they could say anything, he greeted them.

“Ahhhh, my sweet lovebirds! Back so soon? Oh, yes, that’s right, you needed to pick up your photographs. Hang on, I think we have them back here, somewhere.”

 

The desire that Carol had been feeling turned to a leaden feeling of dread as soon as she heard his words. “Nooo,” she whispered. Daryl gave her a look she couldn’t decipher, but stepped to the counter.

 

“Excuse me, uh...,” he waited for the man to look up.

 

“It’s Aaron,” the man said, looking as if they should already know that. “Oh no. Don’t tell me,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I really thought you two were the real deal.”

 

“What?” Carol looked at him, confusion written on her face.

 

“You guys don’t remember do you? Damn. You were so adorable, too. Such a shame,” he lamented as he plopped an envelope on the counter. “Here’s your photographs, marriage license, and wedding certificate. The photos are courtesy of the Lover’s Package you purchased. And if you’ll wait here, I’ll go get the annulment forms. Since it’s obvious you don’t remember last night, I’m sure it won’t be difficult to prove you didn’t have the capacity to agree to a marriage.” He nodded his head as the two stood dumbstruck by the counter and stared at his retreat to a back office.

 

Carol moved to the counter first, her fingers delicately playing over the envelope. “I can’t believe we really did that.” She sounded so out of it.

 

“Yeah, I guess we did.”  He placed his hand on the counter and watched as she removed the papers and the photos. Glancing at the license, she searched out her name. Carol Peletier.

 

Daryl was busy staring at the photos, realization flooding his brain, memory after memory assaulting his mind as he looked blankly at the reflection of Carol, himself, and his brother, Merle.

 

 

* * *

_…_

_“C’mon baby brother, get on over here with ya new wife. That shit can wait ‘til later. Don’t keep the woman waitin.’’”_

_“Wait, Merle, you have to be in the picture, too! You’re Daryl’s brother, you have to be in it. It’s important.” Carol stomped her pretty little high heeled foot and Merle seemed to cower under her intense glare._

_Daryl hurried over between the two of them, before anything else was said, and wrapped his arms around Carol._

_“It’s alright, Aaron said he’d take the picture.”_

_The three of them stood in front of the fountain and just as the picture was snapped Daryl leaned down and planted a kiss on Carol’s cheek._

_“Time for a toast!” Merle headed for the table where there was a complimentary toast waiting for them. His back to them while he poured their drinks, Daryl and Carol were wrapped up in each other, kissing each other softly in between heated looks of desire and warm glances filled with adoration._

_Merle approached with two glasses in one hand and one in the other and handed the two to Carol and Daryl._

_“To hittin’ the jackpot!” He toasted before adding, “In more ways than one.” He winked at Daryl  and they each emptied their glass. “Now, let’s go for a drive shall we?” Merle slapped Daryl on the back and headed out of the chapel, not waiting to see if the lovebirds followed him._

…

 

* * *

 

“Merle,” Daryl growled, startling Carol.

 

“Huh, who’s Merle?” Carol looked up to see the anger in Daryl’s eyes.

 

“He’s my brother, a jackass is what he is,” Daryl voice rumbled as he passed the photos to Carol and rubbed his forehead. This was a shit situation, but, at least now he had an idea of what happened to them.

 

“Oh my God,” Carol studied the photos from the wedding and was struck by the looks on her and Daryl’s faces. There weren’t words to describe the emotion displayed between the two of them. She touched the picture of him kissing her on the cheek and she saw joy and contentment in her eyes. She flipped to the next one in which he was just gazing at her, and there was no mistaking the adoration written on his face or the tender smile gracing his lips. And just like that, the dam burst and she was reliving each beautiful moment of the night before.

 

* * *

…

_She had been playing roulette when she caught his eyes across the table, blue, striking, deep, and intense. Concentrating. He was a sight; rugged and handsome, shaggy and feral...all were words that could describe him. All man. All muscle._

_She left the table up five grand, and moved on to blackjack, possessing a pretty mean poker face, and upped her winnings by two thousand more. She came across him again when she came to the craps table, and watched as he cleaned the floor. He caught her watching him and motioned her to him. She followed, a magnetic pull between the two of them. He held his hand up, showing the die he held, a question in his eyes. She leaned forward and blew on them, then watched as he cast them on the table._

_He walked away with ten thousand, and her on his arm._

_They had drinks at the bar, where they sat and talked for hours. With each drink, scooting their chairs closer together, until she was almost in his lap, and that’s when he did it. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. Just a touch. Gentle as a butterfly’s wing kissing the wind. He pulled back, ears and cheeks red, and she looked at him for a second before she followed, kissing him back, heated fervor in every slide of her lips against his._

_She doesn’t recall whose idea it was. That they marry. But at the time it had seemed like the best idea she had ever heard._

…

 

* * *

 

Aaron returned to the counter with the paperwork in his hand, drawing both of the newlyweds’ attention to him.

 

“You just need to fill these out. There are plenty of attorneys in the area who can take care of the paperwork for you. The cost starts at $499,” Aaron handed the papers to Daryl, who shook his hand.

 

“Listen, uh, we needed to check...we didn’t happen to leave behind a wallet or a purse or cell phone or anything, did we?” Daryl asked the gentleman.

 

“No, I don’t believe you did, but let me check,” and he moved to the other end of the counter, opening a safe under the counter and flipping through some belongings. He locked the safe back up and returned to them, shaking his head. “Sorry, I didn’t see anything.”

 

“That’s okay, thank you so much for your help,” Carol shook the man’s hand, offering a weak smile, and with a sad look on his face, he saw them to the door. Carol carried the envelope of mementos, and Daryl the annulment papers.

 

They got into the car, the weight of their actions pressing in all around them, thickening the air with tension.

 

“While we were in there, I remembered something,” Carol turned to Daryl to convey the snippets she remembered from the night before. “We met at the casino. We both won a lot of money, and then we went drinking.”

 

“Yeah, I remembered some stuff, too. Like going shopping for the clothes, and being here last night,” he pointed to the building. “I know we picked Merle up from a bar to join us for the weddin’.”

 

“That seemed important to you,” Carol murmured, thinking about how happy he looked in the pictures, in between her and his brother.

 

“That was before I knew he was gonna mess with us.” Daryl slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel in frustration and anger. He knew Merle had to have done something, played some part in this, he just wasn’t sure what.

 

“What’s our next step?” Carol asked him, not quite sure where to go from the chapel.

 

“It’s Merle. We go back to the club we picked him up from last night, see if he remembers anything.” Daryl grimaced, starting the car, determined to find out just what Merle had done.

 

 

* * *

 

The dark, concrete building was intimidating, rising up before her in its stark and foreboding presence. The air seemed to close in around it, as if the oxygen was sucked from the very atmosphere, and it made her skin crawl.

 

“Stick close to me,” Daryl instructed her as he led her inside, glaring at the doorman as his eyes swept up and down Carol’s form.

 

The inside was not much better, dim and thick with the stench of sweat, beer, and smoke. The brightest source of light was the stage with the blonde woman twirling and grinding up against a pole to a staccato beat from a crackly PA system.

 

“Yeah, sugartits, lemme see ‘em,” the gravelly voice echoed from the corner of the stage, and Daryl turned, honing in on the sound.

 

“Merle!” He yelled at his brother once he reached his side, and slapped him upside the head. “What’d you do, jackass?”

 

“Whoa now, baby brother, whatchu hollerin’ ‘bout? Merle flipped a twenty dollar bill at the woman as she left the stage.

 

“What did you do to us? Where’s our stuff? I know you did somethin,’ might as well tell me.” Daryl’s face was red, angry tension holding his body stiff as he glared at his brother.

 

“Well, now, maybe I know somethin,’ maybe I don’t. What’s it to ya?”

 

“What did you do, Merle?” Carol spoke softly, but the softness belied the steel in her voice as she leaned in, holding him in her gaze, her eyes penetrating his inebriated haze with her forceful glare.

 

“C’mon now, I’m just havin’ a little fun. Can’t blame ol’ Merle for wantin’ to blow off a little steam. Ain’t like ya can’t afford it now, y’know?”

 

Carol and Daryl turned to face each other, gears grinding in their minds as they began to put the puzzle together.

 

“Did you take our wallets?” Daryl wanted to yell, he really did, but he kept voice at a reasonable decibel level, though his grip on Merle’s shoulder intensified.

 

“Awh, now, didn’t mean no harm by it, figured you two wouldn’t miss much,” Merle slurred the words as he weaved in his chair under the pressure of Daryl’s impressive hold.

 

“I’m gonna ask one more time. What. Did. You. Do. To. Us?” Daryl bit out each word, punctuating each syllable.

 

“Was just a couple “forget-me pills” in your drink at the chapel. Ain’t no biggie. No harm, no foul. Then I had a friend pick me up and bring me here. Just wanted to have a bit of fun, man. Splurge a little, go a lil’ crazy. Why you gettin’ your panties in a twist for? I left ya the damn keys.”

 

Daryl held back as much as he could, but hearing Merle’s blase treatment of the situation had him seeing red. That he could think it was just fine and dandy to do that to him was one thing, but to Carol? He stood up, releasing his grip on Merle’s shoulder, pulled back his arm and punched Merle right in the jaw.

 

Merle’s reflexes were too slow and he toppled over the side of the stool, landing with a muffled  “Ooomph,” on the dirty, sticky floor of the club.

 

Leaning down, he grabbed another shopping bag from the clothing boutique they had shopped at, and opened it up, looking down into it to see his wallet, cell phone, and a clutch.

 

Carol was standing there, hands covering her mouth in shock and surprise at the scene that had unfolded before her.

 

“C’mon,” he turned and took her hand in his, almost like a natural thing to do, and she balked at first.

 

“What about Merle? Are you just going to leave him there?” She questioned, glancing back to see the man lying on the ground, arm thrown over his face, like he was taking a nap, mumbling incoherently.

 

“Yep. Sure am. Jackass can find his own way home.” Daryl said with firm determination, resolved that this was the last straw. He wasn’t going to deal with his shit anymore.

 

They stepped out of the building and the fresh air, though hot and stifling, was heaven compared to the stink of the club.

 

“So, we finally got all our stuff, know what happened…,” Daryl prompted as they approached the car.

 

“You know, you hear stories about Vegas, but I never actually pictured anything like this happening to me,” Carol laughed, glad that she could laugh about it after everything that had transpired.

 

“I was thinking,” Daryl tapped his fingers nervously on his thigh, “Would you want to maybe, go out with me tonight? Go someplace nice?” He patted the bag with his wallet on the seat between them, still containing his leftover winnings.

 

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Carol looked over at him, flustered at the thought and surprised that he still wanted to hang out with her after being with her all day. But there was something about him that made her want to agree. Something in her that longed to be in his presence. It was both calming and peaceful, and yet unnerving because she had never felt like this before.

 

“If I am?”

 

“I guess since we are technically married, we might as well,” she shrugged, and then grinned at him, her smile lighting up her face, and he was blown away by the beauty of that joyful smile.

 

"Oh yeah, I don’t buy $4,000 shoes for just anyone, you know. Only the best for my wife.” He laughed and she joined in, both enjoying the lighthearted moment.

 

“Although, I don’t know how you plan to top last night,” she teased as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the main strip.

  
“Actually,” he winked at her, and lowered his voice, “I figured you’d be on top.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Forget-me-pills" are a street name for Rohypnol, a very serious drug, illegal in the United States. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Contrary to Merle's opinion, the use of Rohypnol is a very serious matter and the discussion of such can be triggering for some people. His dialogue does not reflect my opinion on the matter or the severity of the issue. 
> 
> Carol's shoes are _Christian Louboutin Pigalle Follies Strass 120mm_ and a picture can be found on their website.


End file.
